


Hitchhikers

by ace_up_the_sleeve



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2018-12-15 02:31:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11796573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ace_up_the_sleeve/pseuds/ace_up_the_sleeve
Summary: Jack had never planned on picking up passengers on his cross-country, undead-defying road trip from D.C. to the country's only rumored salvation in Oregon. But Jack's life never went to plan to begin with, and it sure as hell isn't about to start now.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I did warn you guys that there'd be a flood of new content from me now that I'm writing warmups for Way to Fall and here we are with my third story update in four days hOORAH
> 
> SO this is going to be a series of short chapters of the Classic Zombie Apocalypse AU That Nobody Asked For because I've been in a zombie mood lately which never happens and I'm taking full advantage
> 
> THE CATCH
> 
> I'm following the formula that one of my favorite authors VelkynKarma used for their Voltron fic "Road Trip to End Times." I'll be playing through a game of Organ Trail which, for those who are unfamiliar, is a zombie spinoff of Oregon Trail. Situations are randomly generated, and I'll be doing my best to get our good AU agents to Safe Haven, their end goal on the west coast. Going by the start of the game, Jack started in D.C. mere hours before it was obliterated on a government issued nuclear strike. 
> 
> Everything I write is going to go along with the sequential order of events that are happening in the game. At the bottom of each chapter, I'll be putting the exact events that happened in italics. If someone gets sick, they gotta get sick. If they run out of food, they gotta scavenge, no matter where they are or what time it is. If someone gets bitten, I gotta figure out how the hell I'm writing that. Essentially, the future of this story is just as much a mystery to me as it is to you all.
> 
> So with that, dear readers: welcome to the apocalypse.

* * *

 

Rusted metal and torn canvas had never looked so beautiful to Jack in his entire life.

It wasn't unusual, finding old, rotted-out cars like this in places they shouldn't be. The reasons  _why_ they were abandoned were impossible to not think about when you came across your first on the side of the road. The hordes had learned to mob fairly quickly when the virus had settled deep within about a quarter of the population, and there had been a drastic decrease in outbound traffic for weeks when reports of ambushes on the road reached the cities still standing. Most of the poor saps stuck in their cars during those times were never seen again. And if they were, they were usually missing a few limbs and shambling.

After you'd gone as many miles as Jack had and seen one old shell of a car after another (or had the joy of trying to navigate around a whole cluster of them blocking the interstate), you stopped mourning the loss and started keeping an eye out for those previous inhabitants. More times than not, they never went far. It was even less likely that they would be happy to see you. But only a fool would pass up the opportunity to raid a vehicle that hadn't even begun showing signs of growth from the nature around it.

Especially when rations were as skimpy as they were nowadays. Having extra mouths to feed that he hadn't counted on was stretching him pretty damn thin.

The car appeared to be recently abandoned, which meant it likely had something useful inside. He'd stopped the second he'd seen it, too jaded by experience to feel  _hope_ , per say, but feeling something all the same. The sun was well on its way to setting in the next few hours, and if his heading was correct, they wouldn't make the next habitable city until the next afternoon at  _least_ unless they continued driving right up until darkness fell _._ It was too risky traveling at night when the swarms were most active, and if they stopped to scavenge properly, they would lose precious hours of road time.

This whole affair had been a lot easier when it had been just him.

Shaking away the thought, Jack got to work around the old Jeep. They'd gotten lucky. There were no signs of activity, and as Jack searched the surrounding road and overgrown thicket in full, he allowed himself to breathe. They wouldn't have any problems this time.

He gave an all-clear sign over his head to the group gathered around the old station wagon idling several yards across the road, and he saw their hands raise back in acknowledgement. They were all well accustomed to his rules when it came to scavenging now. He was to scout the area out alone, and if there were any problems he couldn't handle quietly and quickly, they were to leave  _immediately._

They'd had one close call too many in the past two weeks to argue.

He wasted no time in cracking the car open, rummaging under seats and in compartments with the methodical hand of a man who had done this a million times before. Every crevice, every cushion, every cup holder was searched. He could feel his lip curling as the minutes ticked by and nothing presented itself.

He'd moved on to the open trunk and been searching for something to jimmy open the built-in toolbox when he heard movement behind him.

Jack didn't so much as turn. Instead, he yanked a loose bit of bumper off of the beat up four-seater and shoved it into the only gap he could see between the box and its casing. He'd only known his companions for the past couple of weeks now, but he could recognize each of them by sound and sense as if he'd known them for years.

"Anything good?"

The first kid he'd picked up was peering over his shoulder into the now-open toolbox curiously. But really, Lucio didn't tend to do things any other way.

The improvised sling they'd thrown together didn't do much for him, but Lucio refused to let something as trivial as a broken arm keep him down. He'd been the life of the ragtag team since Jack had snagged him out of D.C a mere hour before it had been wiped out, and Jack was grateful for that at the very least. He hadn't been all that enthused to be picking up passengers, but as he'd gone around the city, trading and gathering the last of his supplies he'd needed for the long haul to the west coast and the one true chance of salvation that it held, he damn well couldn't just leave him behind. Lucio had given up his last stash of batteries in a trade for Jack's med kit to bind some toddler's ankle in the street before pushing the pack onto the crying girl's mother, insistent that he wouldn't need it. He'd smiled the whole time.

Even Jack wasn't a big enough asshole to turn his back then.

For now, he grunted in response to Lucio's question. He'd searched the entire car, and by the looks of it, someone had already beaten them to it. There wasn't anything in the box aside from a few shredded bits of old plastic bags, and he hardly saw the use there. He inhaled slowly before letting it out in a self indulgent sigh.

_Damn._

"I'm taking this as a solid "no," yeah?" Lucio didn't sound disappointed. Jack didn't think the kid had it in him to  _ever_ sound disappointed. Or if he did, he was incredibly good at hiding it. All the same, he turned away from the car to face him, shutting the toolbox with a solid slam behind him as he did so, his voice grating and low as it always seemed to be these days.

"Nothing here."

Lucio's brow furrowed, his expression puckering as he ran his eyes over the car. Jack almost expected one of his " _better luck next time, I'm sure of it"_ spiels, but he was surprised when the kid made his way around to the passenger door and popped it open instead.

He made a small sound of victory as he leaned awkwardly inside, and Jack shifted over himself to look through the driver side window. There was no way he'd missed anything. It was impossible-

"It looks like it might be- ayy, it's detachable, thought so! Here, help me out with this real quick-"

His younger companion had a solid grip on the faceplate of the old radio, and he was wiggling it like there was no tomorrow. His focus was solely on the dashboard, and he looked about one good shake and slip away from landing on his broken arm if he kept up the way he was going. Jack yanked open the driver side door.

"Stop," he reprimanded shortly as his hand swatted Lucio's away from the radio, "what are you doing? A bit of plastic isn't about to do us any good."

Lucio gave him a look that clearly said he was humoring the older man. "Does your radio work?"

"You know it doesn't," Jack said, returning the look evenly. Lucio shot a meaningful glance to the radio and back to Jack, his shoulders slowly rising as he did everything in his power to get his point across. Jack let the look slide as he continued. "And I'm saying it  _again,_ a bit of plastic won't help us. I don't have anything to wire this up with if we  _do_ manage to get it out. We don't have time to waste on this."

"Three minutes," Lucio bargained, his free hand thumping to rest over his heart earnestly. "Just give me three minutes to mess with it, and we'll get going. You  _know_  it could be useful if we can swing it."

Jack looked up. The sun was steadily marking its descent, and they were doing themselves no favors standing around. They had maybe two hours of driving left if they miraculously didn't hit any roadblocks.

But when he looked back into the kid's face...

Jack reached into the dash and popped off the radio's faceplate in one solid tug before he could stop himself.

"Three minutes. That's all you're getting."

Lucio positively  _beamed_ at that, and before Jack could blink he had shuffled himself into the car to get a better angle at the detachable radio, being extra mindful of his restrained arm all the while.

Jack turned away from the Jeep, looking back over the road. His other companion was leaning against the side of the station wagon, the beaten up bat she'd had when he'd picked her up resting over her shoulders and her hands draped over each side. When she saw him looking her way, she raised her hands in a universal  _what's taking so long_ gesture. He raised three fingers in response, and she gave an exaggerated shrug as Jack turned to keep watch around the car as Lucio got to work.

Two minutes passed before he heard a solid  _k-thunk_ from inside the Jeep.

The kid emerged a second later, the grin on his face threatening to split it straight in half as he held up the small metal box, two cables intact and dangling from the back.

"I'm sorry, did I say three minutes? I did, didn't I?"

Jack stared.

He couldn't help himself. He was actually slightly impressed, and he squinted at the radio in its casing openly. It didn't look any worse for wear. When he raised a questioning brow, Lucio held the object out to him, which he willingly took and turned over in his hands.

"How did y-"

"Used to work for a radio station on the weekends," Lucio fielded the question before it was completely out, miming a headphone on his ear. "Warned a lotta folks about how easy it was to lose their stereos if they didn't have 'em in right when they started bringing factory radios back into the mix."

Jack simply grunted in return in his usual way. He turned the box over again in his hand, inspecting the wires. They  _might actually_  have some use for it.

Lucio was already walking back towards the station wagon when he looked up again. He was  _fast_ when he wanted to be. Jack caught up quick enough, drawing even with him as he scanned the road one last time. It was a quiet evening. He only hoped it would stay that way.

"Hey," he said as he held the radio out for Lucio to grab with his good arm. The kid accepted it, but when he realized the word had been more of a segue than a means for grabbing his attention, he tilted his head slightly.

"Hm?"

"…nice work."

It sounded strained even to  _him,_ but Lucio grinned all the same. Jack wasn't used to dishing out praise. He hadn't had to for a while now. But this seemed like something that deserved it.

"No worries, man. Besides, it's more than just useful."

Jack gave him a sidelong glance as they circled the station wagon. Their companion had already hopped inside when she'd seen them coming, and she was tapping at the window impatiently. "How so?"

Lucio raised his eyebrows meaningfully over the top of the car to Jack, his expression clearly jesting despite the seriousness in his voice as he popped open the shotgun door.

"If I had to go one more day without hearing something other than the two of you, I'd probably go completely nuts."

And with that, he slipped inside. Jack took a moment before shaking his head and sliding into the driver's seat himself.

Honestly?

He couldn't blame the kid one bit.

* * *

_Lucio has a broken arm._

_You come across an abandoned car, but there is nothing to scavenge._


	2. Chapter 2

Sleep was by far the highest on the list of all the commodities in short supply during the outbreak.

Yet somehow that didn't seem to prevent Jack's two companions from conking out the second they had the chance. He was halfway to believing he'd somehow managed to collect a couple of narcoleptics at this rate. It would be just his luck, really.

Fighting the hordes with two half-asleep greenhorns for weeks on end  _did_ seem like something the world would drop in his lap.

They'd been driving in silence for most of the morning now, and Jack didn't have to look twice to know his companions were completely dead to the world around them. This time, he couldn't hold it against them:  _none_  of them had gotten much of a chance to sleep the night before. The old motel they'd stopped at for the night had been occupied, and despite there being hot food and walls to keep the zeds at bay, the other surviving strangers' lingering glances on their supply packs didn't allow for their vigilance to drop for one second. Jack had sat up to take watch. The other two hadn't even  _tried_  sleeping.

Jack had ushered them out at the first sign of daylight, and they'd both knocked out the moment the tires had started rolling.

It didn't usually seem to matter what time it was or where they were. If the kids were ready to pass out, they'd willingly do it standing up if they had to. The number of times Jack had brusquely shaken one of them awake to keep them from kricking their necks against the passenger window had well passed the hundreds already. As it was, Lucio's good arm was the only thing preventing him from smushing his face against the frame of the door.

Jack risked looking away from the empty road ahead of them to glance in the rearview at their third companion. She'd stretched out as far as she could on the back bench seat of the wagon, her head turned away and an arm draping down onto the floor. Her bat was just within reach from force of habit, her fingers just barely brushing over the metal.

Hana had never received an invitation to join the band. She'd really invited  _herself._

It had been a textbook case of wrong place, wrong timing. But to Hana it had been just the opposite. She'd likely have been dead if she hadn't come across the station wagon when she had. Jack had pulled off to the side of the road for less than five minutes when it had happened.

He'd had the hood open, his attention solely on the engine as he tried to find the source of a concerning rattling noise they'd noticed about 20 minutes prior. Lucio had been on watch, the gun in his free hand ready to be handed off in an instant to Jack if need be. They hadn't expected any trouble. The sun was high, and they hadn't come across any signs of zed activity in hours. It had, by all perfect examples, been the safest time to stop.

Lucio hadn't had time to shout a warning before Hana had burst out of the treeline across the two-lane backroad.

The girl had been booking it hell for leather towards them, her eyes already wide with adrenaline before she'd even truly noticed them. Jack had taken one look at the horde hot on her heels before he'd let the hood fall shut with a horribly loud  _SNAP_  and lunged so fast for the front seat that he'd probably left skid marks. Lucio had already dove inside at the first rumbling of feet.

But in the time it had taken Jack to rip open the driver's door, the girl had grabbed the back door handle and thrown herself inside, a litany of " _GO, GO, GO_ " on her lips as she thumped the headrest with her fist.

He hadn't had a choice but to floor it. There was no time to kick her out now, and they'd peeled off with no less than twenty five zombies shambling half-heartedly after them in the open. How she'd managed to attract so many in broad daylight, Jack would never hope to know.

Their introductions were terse, Hana sagging in the back seat as the adrenaline left her completely. Jack hadn't noticed how  _young_ she was until that moment, the bags under her eyes and the makeshift bandage stuck haphazardly on her cheek doing little to help the image. Lucio had turned completely in his seat, his eyes only slightly distrusting. He seemed more concerned than anything else as he offered her a tiny portion of their precious water, her breath eventually coming back to her in full. Jack would have reprimanded him, but he had more important things to be spending his time on.

Every instinct he'd kept from his days in the military were  _screaming_ that he should stop now and let her out. She could be dangerous. He'd gotten her far enough away to have a chance, and she'd taken it on  _herself_ to hop right on in. It was no choice of his. He should stop.

But as they passed a dilapidated road sign for what he  _thought_ was Chicago, he'd begrudgingly planted his foot further on the pedal. They were running low on fuel, and he hadn't had the chance to fix the noise in the engine. The sinking suspicion that the starter would give if he shut the thing down now had grown stronger the longer he'd looked at it, and he'd much rather be stalled in the middle of a safe settlement than the wilderness. He'd take her to the next stop, and then she was on her own.

That didn't stop him from keeping one hand on the pistol Lucio had brought to the table.

"What were you doing?" Jack had asked gruffly after they'd hesitantly exchanged false names, his eyes firmly on the jagged road ahead. Less from curiosity, more so to gauge just who the  _hell_  was now in his back seat.

"Uh,  _running for my life?"_ She had seemed to sense Jack's stern frown then, and, taking better stock of the situation, changed her tune. She shook her head after a second of silence, but her voice stayed strong. "We were looking for shelter. Six of us. There was a cave, but it-"

She'd choked slightly on the last word. Jack had glanced in the rearview to see her blinking rapidly at the ceiling. He was surprised at how quickly she'd regained her composure, because in the next second she was meeting his eye solidly in the mirror.

"It was occupied."

She hadn't needed to say anymore. She didn't, anyways. Jack had caught sight of the grimy streaks the few tears that had managed to escape left on her cheeks when he looked back again several long minutes later. He didn't ask anything more.

He'd tried to kick her out at the next stop. The settlement had been sizable, and there was plenty of work to be done there. She'd be fine regrouping on her own.

The amount she'd protested had been surprising, to say the least.

"I have family," she'd argued, trailing after Jack as he searched the bustling settlement for a place to buy new engine parts. "They survived when South Korea tanked, we were going to meet in Dalla-"

"That's all good and fine," Jack had interrupted as he'd squinted, trying to read the scrawled signs they'd put over tents and lean-tos, "but I'm not a taxi service. You'll figure something out."

"A group has a better chance than  _two,_ I could  _help-"_

He'd cut her off with a single look. He hadn't even needed to say what he'd been thinking.  _What good did a group do for your six?_

He trusted the kid about as far as he could throw her, and his first impression of her survival skills hadn't exactly left him itching for her to join them. Lucio had already proven himself a hundred times over the short week he'd known him. Hell, Jack had even tried dumping  _him_ off at the first settlement they'd come across. His bleeding heart only went so far, after all. He'd taken the kid out of D.C., but with the full intention of dropping him at the next safe house.

The second Lucio had slammed him out of the way of a raider with a knife (even though Jack had fully known the man was there) had Jack rethinking his plan. It wasn't such a bad thing to have someone watching your back.

But he didn't need two.

He'd left Hana by the job boards, her bat planted firmly on the ground and an infuriated expression on her face. He'd expected that to be the last he'd ever see her.

She'd been sitting in the back seat the next morning with an enormous stack of food rations and a brand new starter.

It turned out she was a damn good gambler, and she'd managed to fleece a few unhappy survivors for all they were worth in the short time she'd been in the settlement. She'd gone in with nothing and bluffed her way to high heaven, leaving with enough rations to last two weeks. Lucio had been  _thrilled_ , and he listened with rapt attention as she told him the details of the games she'd had to pull off. The ease with which they got along was a bit alarming to Jack, but he hadn't said anything. He fixed the engine, got in the front seat, and adjusted the mirror. She'd been staring at him in challenge.

She'd caught the canteen he chucked over his shoulder in some surprise. He'd turned to look at her over the seat.

"You said Dallas?"

That had been almost two weeks ago. The nineteen year old snoring on his back seat had earned her place, but he was only taking her as far as her family was. The same went for Lucio. They weren't his responsibility. He was their ride, and nothing else. The more they understood that, the better.

He supposed it helped that he knew more about them than they did of him. He wasn't sure what it was, exactly, that made them trust him so quickly. They'd hardly asked about his past, and seemed to take whatever he said at face value. They were by no means  _dumb,_ but those sorts of things were quick to get you killed in the current environ-

A sharp, metallic  _ping_ echoed through the car, and Jack's spine went rigid instantly. The noise had been loud, and the object had bounced off of his door. His foot slammed on the gas before he could even fully process what had happened.

He knew the sound of a bullet when he heard one.

The shot had jolted his companions awake, and they righted themselves instantly. Lucio's head was swiveling left to right, his eyes still slightly unfocused from sleep.

"Whazzi- was that a  _gunshot?"_

Jack didn't reply. He didn't need to, as another quick series of bullets peppered the car. Hana yelped as two slammed into her door, and she flattened back on the seat away from the windows. Lucio dropped as well, his hands planted on the dashboard. He stared to the side and up at Jack with bewildered eyes.

"Who's trying _-"_

"Who  _cares,_ just  _floor it!"_ Hana interrupted, her own hands on her head. Jack would have rolled his eyes if he wasn't focusing so intently on getting them out of harm's way. She said it as if he already  _wasn't._

There were no more shots as they peeled down the road, and after several tense minutes of listening, Jack eased off the gas. They couldn't afford to burn anymore fuel. The kids sat up in their seats, eyes out the windows as they scanned for their attacker. Jack kept his forward.

"We'll stop to scavenge in about an hour," he said. "I don't know what state we'll find the next city in."

Jack could feel the exact moment they both looked at him. Neither said anything, and after at least a minute passed in silence, he risked a glance, seeing the hesitation in their eyes.

"What?"

"That didn't bother you?" Lucio sounded incredulous. "We just got sniped in a  _car_ and that doesn't bother you?"

Jack heaved an exhale. Oh. Right.

"Not the first time it's happened. Won't be the last. Best be getting used to it."

Hana planted her forehead against the back of the headrest with a groan, the rude awakening clearly not enough to make her forget just how bone tired she was. "There's a lot of things happening lately that I really never want to get used to," she said, the sound muffled from the seat.

Jack snorted. It was true, a lot had changed about the world they thought they knew. He just hoped they wouldn't have to stay used to them for long. He looked briefly at Lucio's pinched forehead and Hana's slumped form in the back seat.

For all their sakes.

* * *

_Someone in the distance is shooting at you. You hear a bullet hit the car._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took the chance to give a bit more backstory than focus on Random Events with this one, they ended up grouping together a bit better that way
> 
> Thank you to all of you reviewers and kudos givers! I'm happy you all seem to like this so far!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Terrible times call for terrible measures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got an announcement at the end of the chapter! I'll be posting it on my other WIPs as well when they update!

Horrible plans, half-assed ideas, terrible choices, all of these were relatively easy to come across in the apocalypse. Some people just weren't prepared for the things they'd need to do to survive. It wasn't their  _fault_ , exactly. They just weren't built for it.

Jack didn't have terrible ideas.

"This is a terrible idea."

"I'm aware of that."

"Oh, good. So long as you're aware, then. _"_

It was the eighteenth time that past minute that Jack's plan had been berated, and it was also the eighteenth time the remarks were ignored. It was simple. He'd been on the road longer than the kids had, and he knew a couple things about survival that they didn't. But that little fact certainly didn't stop them from being wary of some of the things he committed them to. Like now, for instance. They'd followed the same pattern since he'd pulled to a stop.

There would be a pause. And then, ten seconds would pass before-

"I mean, not for nothing, but it's a  _graveyard."_

Jack's patience wasn't exactly thin. He'd done his fair share of waiting in his life, and he knew how to keep his annoyance in check. But if he didn't know any better, he'd say it was starting to lose a couple of pounds the longer he drove this hellish trip.

"That it is," he responded, the same words he'd already used in response to Lucio not two minutes earlier. "That hasn't changed since you last informed me."

Lucio's forehead was wrinkled, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he scanned the roadside cemetery apprehensively. They'd had to detour off of the main highway when they'd come across a collapsed section of the interstate, and the country road they'd been weaving through wound right past a family gravesite. The kids had been confused as all hell when Jack had eased them to a halt beside it. The confusion hadn't lessened when he'd gotten out of the car and wordlessly snagged his rifle.

They'd followed suit quickly enough, but neither made to follow Jack as he creaked open the rusted gate. Hana was standing on the ledge of her open door, her arms folded over the roof of the car as she squinted in the sunlight. "This is  _really_ -"

"-a terrible idea, right. Knock it off."

Graveyards were oddly useful these days. In the early months of the outbreak, people had thought they could outright avoid the attention of the zeds if they camped out in them, hording supplies and all numbers of things as they hid among the truly dead. The half-assed theory had been proven to not be very useful in the end, leaving smatterings of abandoned campsites and batches of supplies in places others were too wary of entering.

Jack heard the muffled, resigned  _"ah, man"_ from behind him just seconds before he heard the gate creak open again. He didn't need to glance to know Lucio had followed him in against his better judgement. Hana, on the other hand, called out from the safety of the car.

"I'll just be here if you need me. Sane. And not in the  _graveyard_."

The minutes passed in silence as the two picked their way through the yard. The plots were small from what Jack could see. Discrete, a small-town family with a heritage they were humble about maintaining. But the headstones were long, and the cover they would have provided marked the yard as a perfect contender for early survivors. Jack wove his way through the stones, his eyes scanning along the ground for anything unusual, something useful-

"Huh."

He looked up at the mutter to find Lucio several rows away, kneeling beside a stone. When he stood, there was a battered knapsack in his hand, the pack bulging from something inside. His expression was something Jack would have likely found priceless in another life as he drew out several cans of food along with a pack of water bottles and a small, crinkled tube of toothpaste. He raised the pack over his head for Hana to see, and the aghast "you're  _joking"_ that came in return was enough to make him snicker slightly. Jack raised an eyebrow on an otherwise expressionless face as Lucio looked back up to meet his eye.

"How terrible," he deadpanned.

"Shut up," Lucio grinned despite himself as he retorted, and with that, he returned to searching with a newfound vigor, the knapsack strung neatly through his sling. Jack shook his head as he returned to his search as well.

There were a few more packs scattered about, but only two were usable, the others having been torn into by nosey animals at some point. The supplies were meager, but they were better than nothing, and anything that could put off having to scavenge a day or two more was fine by Jack. He often found himself reading some of the epitaphs despite himself when he looted cemeteries like these, but this one had proven to be rather boring. Most of the stones were simply names and dates, the odd one-line, ambiguous quote scattered here and there. Geneveive, Andy, Richard, Sarah-

"Jack," Lucio called as loud as he dared from the other side of the yard. The kid was smart enough to muffle the shout. He knew noise drew unwanted attention. Jack grunted wordlessly back in acknowledgement, not looking up from where he was crouched behind a stone. It looked like somebody had buried something small just beside it-

"There's flowers," Lucio continued, his voice uncertain. "They look new-"

Whatever he was going to say next came in a choked garble.

Jack whipped up, the rifle at ready as his eyes sought out the sound of struggle. Lucio was eight rows over, stooped low by a stone as his hand scrabbled at his neck, his weight pressing back as he tried to break free of something. No, it wasn't his own neck he was pulling at, it was an  _arm_ -

Jack had vaulted the headstone and cleared a row before the kid rose to stand. Or rather, was dragged to stand.

It wasn't a zombie he was grappling with.

Bandits and crooks were in ready supply across the nation, and the man using Lucio as cover now was the perfect picture of one. Jack had dealt with his fair share of them. They travelled alone, or in gangs, or with whoever they happened to align with that week, and they prided themselves on how long they'd kept themselves breathing through murder and mayhem alike. They stole, and they cheated, and they were general pains in the collective ass of society since even before the official start of the outbreak.

The bandit struggled to keep Lucio in check as he tightened his hold across his throat, jostling the knapsack and sling in the process. Lucio's face was a mixure of surprise, rage, and pain, and he thrashed harder in the stanger's grip, aiming to get a good kick in as he spluttered and heaved for breath that wouldn't come-

-but he stilled the instant the click of a pistol's hammer rang out over the graveyard.

Jack drew to an instant stop as well, the rifle staying exactly where it was as he stared the stranger down. There was a bandana across his face, but his eyes were cold as he shifted Lucio in his grip, his arm unyielding. It was deathly quiet as they sized one another up.

"Now, isn't this just  _awkward_."

The man had a slight drawl behind the bandana, but despite the casual words, his voice was tense. The pistol in his hand was pressed just beneath one of Lucio's ribs,and he flourished it with a jolt as Jack shifted in place.

"Ah, ah. Stay right there."

Jack wasn't having it.

"Drop him," he said slowly, his voice completely flat as the rifle stayed steadily levelled at the man's head.

"Mm, pass, actually. How's about you  _both_  drop everything you've got and I see if I'm in the mood to let cripple here go?"

"Walk. Away."

The pistol dug further into Lucio's side. " _Don't. Care."_

There was a hastily thrown together rucksack on the bandit's back, a bedroll stuffed haphazardly into the side. He'd been sheltering in the yard, then, likely out of sight in the back corner Lucio had been searching. They'd probably woken him when they'd driven up.  _Moron's lucky he's still got his head taking cover in a place like this-_

The bandit seemed genuinely convinced he had a winning hand, even if he did seem a bit peaky, but Jack wasn't looking at him. He was looking directly at Lucio, who in turn was staring back at him in thinly veiled panic. His hand was still gripping the arm across his throat tightly, and a small, choked sound came from his throat unbidden as he shifted.

Jack's rifle barely ticked in place.

"Suit yourself."

The man's eyes were furious as he ducked behind Lucio, yanking him to the side and jolting for the trigger as Jack's own finger sought the rifle's-

A single shot went off.

Jack and Lucio stared at one another for a split second, two very different levels of surprise on their faces. Then the kid toppled uncoordinatedly to his knees-

-to land beside the body of the bandit with a wheeze, air returning to his lungs with a vengeance.

Jack didn't lower the rifle, his head pivoting to the left. He hadn't fired. But the bandit hadn't either. Yet there he was, a hole to the temple and a steady stream of red painting the mud beneath him, the shot coming and going clean from the side. Which only meant-

Hana was standing just inside the cemetery fence. She still had Lucio's pistol raised, the gun steady in her hands and aimed at where the bandit's head had been only moments before. She only lowered it when Jack looked at her, her face unreadable as she stared down at the corpse. Her eyes didn't lift to meet Jack's once.

He left her be for a moment, rounding the last of the stones to kneel beside where Lucio was doubled over, hacking up a lung. The blood from the bandit was gruesomely spattered across the back of his head, and Jack scrutinized his neck in trepidation. There was no way that wouldn't bruise. The kid'd be rasping for a few days at  _least._ Damn if this boy didn't have some of the worst luck Jack had ever seen.

The kid waved him off when he offered him a hand up. "Give m-" Another horrible, retching cough. "Give me a s… a sec-"

Jack said nothing in reply, but turned to observe their newest deadbeat. The shot had been dead center to the side of the man's skull. He'd died instantly. Jack shot another glance to Lucio's bloodless face before he stood, kicking the body over roughly as he tugged the backpack from the corpse. He wouldn't be needing it again anytime soon.

Hana joined them then, crouching quietly beside Lucio and bumping her shoulder under his good arm. She spoke to the ground.

"We should go. He might have friends."

The words only shook a minuscule bit as she spoke, and Jack watched her lever their companion up, pausing as he heaved. The shot had been good. Too good for luck, and too on-target for an amateur. She met his eye evenly as she helped Lucio get his feet under him, nothing else said as she steered him towards the gate. Jack watched her go in silence.

Whatever she had done in her previous life was her business.

But you don't just make shots like that the first time you kill a man.

Jack caught up to them fast enough, the extra pack on his back quickly being joined by the bag on Lucio's sling as he detached it from the kid's arm. Lucio almost protested the loss, but his breath had hardly returned enough to form the words. Jack opened the gate ahead of them, his eyes finding the kid's.

 _He_  knew he wouldn't have let the stranger take the shot. The line of fire hadn't been an issue whatsoever. He'd made hundreds more difficult in his lifetime. But judging by the look in Lucio's eye, the kid wasn't so certain.

Jack gripped his elbow, helping Hana steer his stumble. When Lucio finished another wheezy hack, the older man squeezed his arm shortly to snag his attention again.

"Good?"

Lucio gave him an incredulous look before clearing his throat hoarsely. Jack almost expected the pointed noise to be all the response he'd be receiving, but Lucio surprised him by grinding out a few words, a fleeting grin flickering on his face.

"Te-terrible idea."

Hana snorted, her own wan grin half-hearted in return. But her voice was even when she spoke again, her eyes finding Jack's over Lucio's shoulder. He returned the look warningly.

"I've heard he's aware."

* * *

_You come across a tombstone on the side of the road. You find supplies._

_A bandit sneaks up on you and grabs Lucio. You'll only get one shot…_

_You saved Lucio._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> friggin Lucio keeps getting the short stick please let this boy rest  
> up next, our trio becomes a quin...quinrio? quincerio? 
> 
> a squad
> 
> thanks to those who have given kudos and commented!
> 
> I have an announcement as well! October is coming up soon here, and I'm looking to do a hell and a half ton of writing in prep for NaNoWriMo. I'm looking for spooky prompts! If you've got some good ol' fashioned monster AUs, ghost stories, zombies, Halloween-esque ideas, whatever your heart fancies, PLEASE send me a note! This is one of the rare times where I actively will be reading through every admission I get, so please feel free to take advantage of it!


	4. Chapter 4

They were out of food. It wasn't the first time, and it certainly wouldn't be the last, but Jack was starting to get a bit sick of having the realization cross his mind every few days (or weeks, if they were lucky).

The night before had been a testy one, and he knew he'd be heading back to two pissed off kids even despite the fact that he'd been scavenging for what felt like a little more than half an hour now. The argument had been short, as most arguments are with him.

_It'll be quicker and you know it-_

_It's worked just fine this way since we started._

_Yeah, but there's more we can-_

_My ride, my terms. You know the drill. Stay with the car, and leave when the hour's up._

_You're being-_

_One. Hour._

Having the kids around had been easier than Jack had expected aside from the odd incident here and there, he had to admit that much. But the longer they rode together, the more insistent they became on taking on more tasks than they were ready for. They knew why Jack was doing what he was doing, sure, but that didn't seem to stop them from pestering him all the same. His firm end to the conversation the night before had been followed by a surly silence that had lasted long into the next morning. Hana had just looked at him when he'd said he was leaving. Lucio hadn't even looked up from where he'd been fiddling with the radio, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Jack didn't give a damn. They didn't have to understand.

He eased past a dilapidated fence, the rusted metal warped beyond recognition and jutting unevenly from the ground. It had clearly been trampled at some point, though by the living or un, he couldn't possibly say. He picked his way past it neatly, careful of the rusted rebar reaching for his legs as he leapt past it to the only clear ground he could see. The half hour had passed in some silence, the day warm and the morning sun keeping the zeds at bay for the most part. He'd come across a couple in his wandering, and they'd been dispatched quickly enough.

Supplies, unfortunately, were just as elusive as the 'eaters had been. Jack had maybe five, six cans of food he'd managed to filch from an abandoned campsite, the canvas tents torn to shreds and completely unusable beyond scrap. The cans themselves had been beat to shit and buried under enough dirt to make them practical fossils, but beggars were dumb as sin if they were choosers these days. A single can of propane was all that was left out of a rack of fifty, but it had slow leaked as it had sat, useless. There had been bodies as well, and Jack had picked through the visible ones, spare change or other oddities slipping into his pocket. A couple inside one of the tents had clearly decided they wanted nothing to do with a world overrun by zeds, their corpses showing no signs of having turned before making the decision for themselves. They'd still been holding hands. Jack had left them be.

But that had been thirty minutes ago, and while he hadn't found anything in the meantime, he'd seen a sign that had sparked promise.  _Rest Stop, Highway 93, Jenx's Supermarket and Deli, next exit._ The fence he'd passed had a burnt out logo similar to the one he'd seen back on the overhead, and as he pushed forward through the overgrowth, that promise settled into his chest with grim satisfaction.

A warehouse-sized building lay ahead, the faded neons high above reading  _Grocery, Pharma, and More!_ missing more than half of their letters and greeting him with an exuberant  _Groy, arm, Mo!_ He lingered at the edge of the growth for a long moment, quietly watching. Grocery and super-stores were difficult beasts to tackle these days. On the one hand, they'd likely been taken over by other survivors hell-bent on protecting what they could, if they hadn't turned and killed each other over greed and panic first. On the other hand, the zeds hung close by, instincts driving them to realize something about the area attracted unwitting survivors and trapped them inside, limiting their escape and ultimately providing an endless chain of food.

The minutes ticked by, and not a single patrol looped the building. There was nobody on the roof, and from what Jack could see, no windows capable of surveying from. It was empty.

Jack circled the store, carefully noting the exits he could see. Three possible escapes if things went south. It wasn't ideal, but his pack had six cans in it, and that was more than enough to spur him through the back entrance, the door closing with a muffled  _thud_ behind him as he strained his ears.

There was no noise from inside, the faint sounds of the nature outside the only thing coming to him. No shuffling, no wheezing rattles, no groans, and no murmurs of conversation. He stayed where he was a moment longer before creeping through the strips of plastic seperating the back storage room from the main store.

He had twenty minutes before he needed to get back to the car.

Sure enough, the store was empty. The lights were off, the electricity having been lost ages ago. The only light came from the front of the store, the sun pouring through the glass and not quite reaching the corners. Jack swept his eyes over every shadow, every aisle-

He couldn't remember the last time he'd been this lucky, and even if he didn't dare question it now, his guard stayed firmly in place.

But that didn't stop him from getting to work the second he determined he was, for now, alone. The smell of rotting fish and scraps of deli meats was more than enough warning to steer clear of the back corner, and he worked his way through the rest of the store as quickly as possible. There was no way in hell a smell like that didn't make this place a hot-spot for shamblers when the sun started to set.

He definitely hadn't been the first to pass through, but there was a surprising amount left on the shelves. The canned goods aisle had been practically wiped clean, but for a few soups that had rolled and wedged beneath the opposite shelf. A small family pack of rice cereal, a large bag of dried fruit leathers, a few sticks of deoderant, a travel sized container of mouthwash, a battered box of waterproof bandaids with little happy cartoon faces baring their teeth up at him. He paused at the stationary shelf, a glint of green in the back catching his eye. It was a pack of hard candies, and he read the name with a snort of irony before stuffing the bag into his pocket. Didn't hurt to have a peace offering for his disgruntled troops, he supposed.

Twelve minutes.

He'd made it to frozen section when he heard it.

His eyes were tracking down the melted cartons inside, picking through for anything that could have retained its edibility despite having thawed when the first sign of movement made it to him. It had been quiet at first, not enough to call for concern. A scratch. And another, longer than the first. Then again. He'd heard the pattern too many times to count now.

A step. And a drag. A step. And a drag.

Jack glanced over his shoulder, senses on high alert. There was a shambler inside with him now, and by the sound of it, it was only one aisle over. He was already reaching for the crooked pipe he kept strapped to his bag, bypassing the rifle. The noise would attract more, after all, and he could easily take out one with a quick-

It was impossible to take Jack off guard. It just didn't  _happen._

And yet, the shriek from above hardly gave him enough warning before something absolutely  _flattened_ him.

Jack tucked his limbs in on instinct the second whatever it was made contact, and the moment they hit the floor, he lashed out his leg, kicking it solidly in the stomach. The snarling thing staggered back with the impact, and Jack whipped into a crouch, the pipe coming around to grip firmly in his hand. It was a zed alright, but it was stooped low, its spine curved unnaturally as it shifted on all fours, its head tilted and its face warped in an unearthly grimace as it shrieked at him again. It was all the warning Jack got before it leapt for him once more.

The pipe cracked down over its head in one solid swing, and the shrieking stopped as the thing collapsed

-and the noise started again directly behind him.

Jack didn't bother turning. He just leapt over the body at his feet and sprinted for the back door he'd come in through, the ear-splitting cries being joined by more from above and following close on his tail. He cursed his stupidity the entire way.

_Winds._

No goddamn  _wonder_ the place hadn't been picked clean. Anyone who'd managed to get close enough to even think of turning the place into a hub wouldn't have survived, and no ordinary zombie would be caught anywhere _near_ a nest of winds.

The bastards hibernated in some odd, non-sleeping stasis more than they hunted, but when they did decide to go for the kill, they were damn near impossible to stop. Their endurance was unfathomable even to Jack, and the few he'd had the misfortune of coming across had taken more effort than they were worth to outrun. Unlike the usual shamblers out in the world, they retained enough muscle from the infection to sprint, all four limbs throwing them across distances that no human should ever rightly be able to cross. They were ferocious, sticking together in packs of four or five and tearing into whatever they came across, be it alive or undead. But the energy they needed made it necessary for them to find shelter and recuperate in dark, isolated spaces, usually up high and well covered.

Much like the tops of the aisles of a grocery store.

Jack burst through the plastic he'd entered earlier, the skidding of feet and hands behind him uncomfortably close. He'd just thrown open the door itself when the first one leapt for him again.

The fall was awkward, and he flew past the three short steps to land with a pained grunt as he bodily tossed the wind off, slamming it over the shoulder with the pipe for good measure. His knee had taken the brunt of the fall, and even as he stood, he could feel it popping uncomfortably. The wind didn't give him time to regain his bearings, and he was forced to roll messily out of the way or get an armful of grimy teeth as the other three appeared at the stoop. His teeth were grit and the pipe was already raising, his other hand going for his rifle as the next wind lunged from the door.

He had eight minutes.

* * *

"Thirty seconds are up. Go."

"Ok, only got three this time."

"Fire away _."_

"I've got eight siblings, I released my own album the year before the outbreak, and I've got my own cereal line."

"Oh, come on."

"What? It's not supposed to be  _easy."_

They'd been at the game for most of the time Jack had been gone, Lucio tuning the radio and listening in where he could as Hana leaned against the outside of the car, her bat tapping idly at her toe as she kept watch. They'd been digging bits and pieces of each others lives out through the game since the moment they'd started it weeks before, and even though it was a slow means of getting to know one another, they'd found it a good enough way to pass the time when Jack went scavenging. Even if neither of them  _were_ pleased with the man for refusing to let them help when they could, they were by no means miffed enough to let their impromptu ritual slide.

"I mean, the sibling one is obvious," Hana said, "but how is only one of the other two a lie? There's  _no way."_

It was simple. They were given thirty seconds each, and at the end of it, they had to tell the other at least two truths about themselves along with one lie. The other had to figure out which was the lie. They ranged from ridiculous to downright depressing sometimes, but it was a lighter way of uncovering things about one another rather than outright asking.  _I had four tatoos planned before the outbreak. I was on track to play football professionally but changed my mind. I have no family left. I met the leader of the UN and accidentally flat-tired him. I shouldn't be alive. I was part of a freedom fighter movement. I have three extra teeth. I'm not a cat person._

Lucio looked up from the radio, his eyebrows drawn together in disbelief. "You're living through the apocalypse and you just used the words ' _there's no way_.' I gotta write this down, there needs to be a record of this occasion-"

Hana thunked her heel good-naturedly against his closed door, and Lucio toppled over dramatically, his hand leaving the radio to clutch his heart in mock shock at the slam. She snorted as he righted himself.

"Why do I put up with either of you, again?"

"Now you're just stalling and you know it," Lucio said pointedly, his hand raising to tick off each word as he said them. "Gimme my truths. Siblings, songs, or cereal."

Hana narrowed her eyes.

"Siblings." She flicked one of his fingers down through the open window, leaving two.

He'd just opened his mouth to reply when the thud of hurried footsteps put a quick end to their game.

Hana had her bat at the ready the instant the noise reached them, and Lucio's pistol had found its way back to his hand just as Jack flew into view, well down the road from the car. The two exchanged glances.

Jack didn't run unless he damn well  _had_ to.

But even as he drew closer, nothing followed. They kept their eyes peeled, neither speaking as they stayed on red alert, but nothing tailed him out into the road. It was only when they stopped searching behind him quite so intently that they fully took in his state.

He was limping in his run, clearly favoring his left leg even as he pounded concrete. His face and arms were smeared in mud and moss, an absolute mess of scrapes covering his skin. There was a smudge of red in his grey hair, and his rifle was out, swinging with the odd rythm of his sprint.

Hana was already looking for bites before he'd drawn even with the car.

"Woah, okay, where's the fire-" Lucio started, alarm clear in his voice. All trace of annoyance from earlier had practically vaporized.

"You might have been dirty when you left, but you were  _not_ that dir-" Hana had spoken at the same time, and they both stopped awkwardly as they stepped over each others' words. Jack didn't seem to notice, giving a harsh nod to the back seat. Hana took the cue for what it was and slipped inside warily.

The pack slung off of his shoulder as he swept inside, and the hitch of his breath as he settled into the seat didn't go unnoticed by either of his companions. He said nothing as he turned the key.

And the starter stalled. It had been doing that a lot more lately. They'd suspected the part they'd gotten those few weeks ago hadn't been up to par, but there was nothing they could do about it now. It wasn't unusual for people to bum off broken equipment for full price. It wasn't exactly likely you'd be seeing the people you'd screwed over again any time soon, after all. Usually, Jack would curse at the thing while trying again. Now, he was dead silent, the urgency in his attempts filling the car with a tension neither of his companions truly wanted.

"Look," Lucio tried again, "strong and silent doesn't suit you, man. What happened?"

Jack looked up at the jab, his eyes not giving anything away. But he answered, which was enough, even as he turned his attention back to the ignition.

"It's been an hour and three minutes."

Hana caught Lucio's under-brow, over the shoulder glance with one of her own.  _Nice try._

Before they could say anything more, the car roared to life, and Jack gripped the wheel much tighter than necessary-

-just as something lunged out onto the road several yards ahead and positively  _howled_.

"What the  _hell is-"_

Jack floored it, cutting off Hana's aghast question as they barrelled towards the thing. It looked up, twisting its head completely sideways to do so, and Hana felt ice in her veins. It was missing half of its face, but it was undeniably human. Or had been, once.

The car swerved as the thing up and sprinted towards them, lumbering on all fours like an animal with a chilling series of snarls and shrieks. Jack didn't bother colliding with it, but the zed lashed out to scrape at the side of the car as it flew past all the same. Hana caught a flash of two more falling onto the road as the needle on the dash struggled past 40.

The thing pursued them for as long as it could after that, the wet growls and cries of hunger following them long after it had disappeared from sight.

It was quiet for too long, then.

Lucio was staring openly out the back window, his mouth a flat, pensive line and his forehead wrinkled. Hana caught his eye, the same thought passing between them before they turned as one to look at their driver.

_He'd fought those things. On his own._

_And he'd survived._

A bag of something or rather was smacked onto the dashboard without warning, and Jack's passengers jumped as one at the sudden noise. Hana and Lucio blinked at it, the smudge of red on the green from a cut across Jack's palm impossible to miss as some twisted form of horrified amusement joined the tension in the air.

It was a bag of mint Lifesavers.

* * *

_You're low on food._

_You're hurt while scavenging and only bring back 10 g of food._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot there were a couple of things that happened before I found a good launchpad to toss our next couple of mystery hitchhikers in here, so oOPS last chapter's A/N was a lie sorry about that
> 
> Have fun with the Halloween event everybody!


End file.
